分卷阅读10（1 / 2）

“Sepultura.”

The bricks clicked open. Harry looked down to each end of the hallway, and upon seeing no one, entered the common rooms.

They were not in the state of disrepair that Harry had expected. In fact, they looked quite lived in. There was a dining table at one end, a desk covered in potions equipment towards the middle, and a desk at the very end. There were books strewn across most of the flat surfaces, as well as floor to ceiling shelves filled with more books, a lot of them Muggle by the looks of them.

Harry walked slowly towards where the boys’ dormitories had been, peeking his head inside. There was only one bed in there, big enough to fit about three Hagrids comfortably. Lying on the bed he saw the cat with the bifocal markings he had seen around the castle. She looked up at him, seeming to see him despite his cloak, sighed, and returned her head to her paws. Someone was living here.

That had been the last thing he suspected. He thought, perhaps, McGonagall was hiding some artifact from the war that she didn’t want the students fiddling with, or something that Dumbledore had entrusted her with upon his death. What he did not expect was apartments.

He stood quietly, listening for any sign of life, but determined apart from the cat, he was very much alone. He ventured back into the common room, walking slowly along the bookshelf and running his finger along the spines. He stopped when he came to a rather thick, tall book with an unmarked binding. He pulled it out and leafed through it briefly.

It appeared to be clippings from newspapers and magazines. Upon further study, he noticed most of them seemed to be about him. There were a few about Hermione and Ron, their wedding announcement, a bit about Ron becoming a partner at Wizard Wheezes, a bit about Hermione becoming an Auror. There were one or two clippings about Neville, some about Ginny, but those mostly concerned him. It seemed he was the star of this scrapbook. The only other person who came close in terms of being mentioned was Draco Malfoy. Intrigued, Harry carried the book over to the desk, sitting in the chair. He let his arms peek out from below the Invisibility Cloak, but remained covered, in case anyone should return.

He opened to the first page to find an article he had saved himself, the one written the day he had given Malfoy his wand back. On the page directly across from it, there was a page from a gossip magazine he didn’t subscribe to detailing the same meeting, but the photograph was taken while Harry and Malfoy were sat at the table. The pained look that Harry had memorized from the Prophet photo did not feature on Malfoy’s face here. Instead, it showed the blonde boy watching Harry as Harry stared fixedly at his own hands. So fixedly, in fact, that he had failed to notice the smile playing on Malfoy’s lips, and a touch of what Harry would call fondness, if he didn’t know better, in his eyes. He read the headline.

New Beginnings: Romeo and…Romeo?

Harry hurriedly skimmed the rest of the article.

It’s not hard to see that Draco Malfoy, 17 year old former Death Eater, only has eyes for his former nemesis, Harry Potter. But then again, who doesn’t? Potter is set up to be the most sought after man for the next decade, at least. But has Malfoy lucked out? Sources close to both say this meeting may have been more than a simple truce. The look on a certain blonde’s face seems to point that way. Is a forbidden love between two star crossed teens on the horizon? What of Potter’s current flame, Ginny Weasley? More as the story unfolds.

There was a bit of writing scrawled in the margin of the article in a slanted, clean script.

Was hardly making eyes at him. HARDLY.

Harry watched the photograph for a little while longer, watching Malfoy’s eyes skim across his face and the smile on his lips became more evident. How had he missed that? What about his hands had been more interesting? Why couldn’t he have looked up? More importantly, what did it mean? Clearly, the magazine was just looking for anything to publish about the two of them. But what was Malfoy really thinking? Surely, that Harry’s hair was a disaster or despite being a hero, his clothes were still cheap, something terrible like that which only he would find amusing.

The next page was Malfoy’s obituary. Harry could barely bring himself to look at it, turning the page quickly.

The next page was an article that was not unfamiliar to him, but was one that he certainly had avoided. It was the story Ginny had leaked on him to get back at him for breaking up with her. She had since apologized, and he had accepted it. They had only been kids at the time, hardly ready to handle their emotions, let alone the press coverage they received. But just because the article was water under the bridge didn’t mean it didn’t sting to look at. Mostly because there was some truth to it.

Potter Carrying a Torch for Former Nemesis?

He wasn’t sure carrying a torch was the right phrase for it. But then again, it felt different than any other grief he had experienced. He felt as though anything he could say to the others, they already knew. But with Draco, he hardly knew what he wanted to say to him. It was the only loss he had experience that was surrounded so entirely with want. He wanted to say sorry, he wanted to know Malfoy, he wanted Malfoy to be happy. He wanted so much for Malfoy.